It’s been seven weeks, five days, four hours, and 13 minutes since I last had my hands on you. My body aches and my heart feels heavy just thinking of you. My REM is revved up and my dreams-actually it’s just one dream-are of you, flying from zero to 60 clicks in two and a half seconds. I wake up in a cold sweat, my hands at nine o’clock and three o’clock, your name on my lips: Bugatti Veyron FBG par Hermès.

In my dream, it’s the beginning of that fateful day. I’m 10,000 feet in the air, being flown to you in a Cirrus Design SR22-G3, the smoothest four-seater plane on the market. It’s turbocharged, like a hotrod in the sky. It’s not just a means of travel; it’s a speed metal sanctuary of aerodynamic comfort and safety. It’s roomy and well-equipped. It’s sleek and handles beautifully, with one of the most weight-efficient wing structures in the industry. It’s easy to fly. It’s high-performance. It has a parachute for the entire plane-the famed CAPS system. It’s the perfect bird to out-fly and outmaneuver moody Florida skies, especially on a day like today, when they’re about to burst wide open with thunderstorms. If it were another model, I never would have made it to you.

But I do. And there you are with that unforgettable silhouette, like a poster from my childhood bedroom wall come to life in the humid and ferny jungle of the id. The Bugatti Veyron 16.4: the fastest production car in the world, top speed of 253 mph, 1001-hp, 7-speed, quad-turbo, 8-liter, 16-cylinder engine that can get up to 100 mph within the miniscule span of an on-ramp, and carbon-ceramic brake discs that can stop on a dime, even in a downpour. People are talking to me: the beautiful women from JMPR, the brilliant VW engineer, but I’m already mad with a yin-yang of thrust and luxury. As I enter you, I realize that I’m seriously whipped.

You’re in an even more limited category than the other limited-edition Veyrons. Your inner surfaces have been lavishly designed, swathed in bull calfskin at the legendary Hermès Paris headquarters on Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré (hence the FBG in your name). The care and attention to detail form an extremely refined, minimalist yet formal impression, reflecting the tradition of the very first Bugattis and the fundamental design principles of the house of Hermès. The door handles echo the fluid forms of handles on Hermès travel bags and luggage, and the dashboard, traditionally finished in brushed aluminum, is instead clad entirely in bull calfskin. Passengers aboard the Bugatti Veyron FBG par Hermès will find a dashboard glove compartment designed to hold a selection of small travel accessories and a zipped Hermès wallet. Both seats are covered in two-toned bull calfskin, and the panel separating the cockpit from the central rear engine-traditionally made of carbon fiber-is covered in the same fine leather. The leather-lined trunk holds a specially fitted Toile H canvas and leather case, handmade by craftsmen from the Hermès workshops. You’re a rolling oasis of sexy French sweet nothings.

Obviously, you’re more expensive than a standard model, at $2.3 million. But just to drive you, even once, is worth it; playing mindlessly with your double-clutch, Formula 1-style gearbox with paddles rather than the traditional clutch-and-stick; taking hairpin turns at 80 mph. You’re a well-mannered missile. Slamming you over 100, I break the impatience of the spirit against the chains of matter.

I’m out of the car now, realizing our time together has expired. It will take all of my life, and probably the next one, to forget you.

POSTSCRIPT
Um, sorry babe; I’m over it. I just found out Bugatti has greenlit 80 Targa Tops, with 210-plus mph top speed, to hit U.S. showrooms in 2009. What can I say? You’re still hot. But I’m a man. I have a wandering eye. I can’t help it.